summary: it takes a year before five can jump again (aka five only spends a year in the apocalypse)
He couldn’t jump. He wasn’t able to a year ago, why would it change now? He was useless. His family was going to die and there’s nothing he can do because he can’t jump. Stupid. He was stupidstupidstupid. He should have listened to his dad. He shouldn’t have tried doing something he wasn’t ready for because now he was paying the ultimate price. Idiot. Idiot. Stupid.
No. Shut up. You can do this. You’ve been doing this your whole life. You need to find out what’s wrong and fix the calculations.
But fixing the calculations was easier said than done. His last pencil had broken a weak ago. He couldn’t fix the calculations if he couldn’t write them. The problem was half done inside the book, Vanya’s book, which in itself was a whole other issue he was going to have to work on when he got back. Five didn’t know how much of his family’s problems stemmed from his disappearance but a good chunk of them had to which meant going home should fix them, right? If he never disappears then there’s no reason Vanya should grow up so distant from everyone, Ben shouldn’t die because Five wasn’t there to help, and they shouldn’t run away alone because that’s something you do with your family and they were a family. Five had to get back, he just had to. He had to fix them, save them, and stop the apocalypse. Not necessarily in that order.
Wait. Fuck. Where was he? Something about jumping...Right. The problem. The problem that was half-finished and a total disaster. Five’s eyes were blurry as he reread everything he had written. There were spots he had scratched his numbers out with the intention of going back but now he couldn’t. He couldn’t go back, he couldn’t go back, he couldn’t he couldn’thecoulnd’t.
“Dammit, Five.” He slapped himself. “Breathe.” He reminded. Five wished for the company of Dolores. She hadn’t wanted to watch him tear himself apart, her words not his, so he had left her behind two days ago next to a dried-up river. He wished he hadn’t done that. Dolores would remind him to breathe. She would know how to fix this. She always knew the answer when he didn’t.
“Okay. This is fine. Just fill in the blanks and go.” He looked over the equation again, frowning at all of the blanks. He couldn’t do it, but he had to try. Five folded the book shut and shoved it into his pocket. Then he concentrated.
The familiar feeling wrapped itself around him. Flashes of light danced along the edges of his vision. Five thought about the night he left. The fear in Vanya’s eyes when he ran from the table, the envy in Klaus’, and the distrust in Luther’s. He focused on them. He focused on his family and moved.
The energy flickered out leaving Five standing there with nothing else to go on. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck FUCK.”
He kicked a wall. It wasn’t a great idea. He was hurting enough without the added foot injury. He kicked it again and again and again until he was numb. “Fucking hell. Fuck,” he said, finally falling to his knees. Was it even worth fighting anymore? Nothing was working. He couldn’t jump home. His siblings were going to grow up with him and then die never knowing he was alive. He was going to miss their final moments by hours, maybe even minutes, and there was nothing he could do about it. Five pulled at his hair and screamed. He cried, something he hadn’t done since finding Vanya’s book and reading what his family went through after his disappearance. Crying was weak and Five couldn’t be weak, but now Five was stuck and there was nothing else he could do.
Five was weak. He wanted his brothers, his sisters, his mom, Pogo, and even his dad. He just wanted someone who could talk to him, someone who could hold him and tell him everything was going to be okay, that he could do this, that he just needed to keep working. He closed his eyes.
“Crying is a sign of weakness, Number Five. If you cannot get over these childish mannerisms, then perhaps your siblings can.”
“You’re not going to touch any of them.” Five had said, standing as tall and looking as threatening as he could as a nine-year-old. Five had been the first one to realize they weren’t a normal family. He could sneak out more easily. He had seen normal families going to the park, sending their children to school, and celebrating their birthday’s rather than reminding them they were meant for something greater. Normal families had names, not numbers.
“Then stop this foolishness at once.”
Foolishness. Of course, that’s what his father would think of normal, human emotions. Reginald Hargreeves was all about saving the world and their greatest purpose but never what his bullshit ideas are doing to his children. One and Two were always at each other’s throats fighting to be the best, Three thought she was better than everyone, Four was terrified of his own shadow, Six hated himself and the things he could do, and Seven was forced to stay on the outside.
“Having emotions isn’t foolish. It proves we’re human.”
“The six of you are not human, you’re greater than human. And if you cannot realize that then perhaps, you’re not ready to be a part of this team.”
Five swallowed. How long had it been since he had anything to eat? Anything to drink? Long enough to start imaging his dead father.
Reginald Hargreeves died ten days before the apocalypse. That’s what the paper had said and going by Vanya’s book, the only reason his family would have come together again would be because of a funeral. That’s why they were at the academy when the apocalypse tore them apart. If Five could jump back, even just a single year, then he might have a chance of saving his family. He might understand what happened to Vanya. But Ben…A year wouldn’t be enough time to save Ben but maybe he could work on jumping. The others would help him practice and then he could go back further. Maybe grab Ben and bring him back. It wasn’t a solid plan, but it was better than nothing.
“Oh my god, Dolores I might’ve figured it out,” Five said as he pushed himself up. “I’ve been trying to jump too far back, somewhere my body no longer exist. I just need to pinpoint the place where I always will be.” Five wiped at his eyes. It wouldn’t do to show up a crying mess.
He focused on his family, on his broken and the only reason they would come together. He put himself there, forced himself into the memory. The familiar buzz of energy surrounded him. “I’ll find you, Dolores. Maybe we can crash this funeral together.” Five closed his eyes in fear that it wasn’t going to work. He didn’t know what he would do if it didn’t.
Then, for the first time in a year, Five jumped.
